How to Ease the Pain of Isolation During the Holidays

It's that time of year. The media is filled with stories about people traveling to be with loved ones. Holiday decorations are going up and yummy recipes abound. But the holidays can be a difficult time of year. Many people face isolation, either because they're unable to be with others at all due to health or financial limitations (which often go hand in hand), or because they're participation in those gatherings is severely limited by health difficulties. I fall into each category, depending on the holiday in question.

For those with health problems, sometimes attending holiday gatherings is harder than skipping them. Here's how it usually goes for me. Initially, I'm so happy to see everyone. But soon, unless I've talked to people ahead of time, I have to start managing their expectations about what I'll be able to do. This is stressful and exhausting. (I wrote about managing others' expectations in Reduce Holiday Stress by Educating Others About Your Health.)

When I leave the gathering to go lie down in my bedroom, it's difficult to cope with the isolation. It's already been a stretch for me to sit through dinner, so as soon as it's finished, I know I'm going to have to excuse myself. I retire to the sounds of warm conversation, spiced with peals of laughter. It's hard.

At first, I'm overcome with sadness as I listen to the sounds of socializing coming from the front of the house. But over the years, I’ve developed some practices to help alleviate the pain of being isolated from others. Here are three of them.

These tools can be used by those of you who can attend part of a gathering (that's me at Thanksgiving) and by those of you who are unable to be with others at all (that's me during the Christmas season because in order for me to be with my family, I'd have to be able to travel).

Compassion for Yourself

As I settle onto my bed, I don’t try to deny that I’m sad. In other words, the first thing I do is to gently acknowledge how I’m feeling. Then I speak to myself compassionately about those painful emotions.

If you’d like to try this, I suggest you pick phrases that fit your particular circumstance and repeat them silently or softly to yourself: “It’s hurts to leave a gathering before it's over”; “I’m sad to be alone in the bedroom.” If speaking to yourself in this way brings tears to your eyes, that’s okay. They’re tears of compassion. To quote Lord Byron, “The dew of compassion is a tear.”

Feeling Joy for Others

Sometimes I work on cultivating joy for others who are happy. I think about the good time everyone is having and try to feel joy for them. If I feel envy instead, I keep practicing. I imagine their smiling faces and the sound of their laughter. After a time, I can't help but feel happy for them, even if I'm still sad. And sometimes, I even start to feel joy myself, as if everyone is having a good time for me.

Tonglen

My most reliable practice for easing emotional pain during the holidays is tonglen. Tonglen is a compassion practice from the Tibetan Buddhist tradition. It’s counter-intuitive, which is why Buddhist teacher Pema Chödrön says that tonglen reverses ego’s logic. Here’s why it’s counterintuitive. We’re usually told to breathe in peaceful and healing thoughts and images, and to breathe out our pain and suffering. In tonglen practice, however, we do just the opposite. On the in-breath, we breathe in the suffering of others. Then, on the out-breath, we breathe out whatever measure of kindness, compassion, and peace of mind we have to offer them, even if it’s just a little bit.

Here’s how I use tonglen when I’m overcome with the pain of isolation at holiday time. I breathe in the sadness and pain of all those who are unable to be with family and close friends. Then I breathe out whatever kindness, compassion, and peace of mind I have to give them. As I do this, I’m aware that I’m breathing in my own sadness and pain, and that when I breathe out kindness, compassion, and peace of mind for them, I’m also sending those sentiments to myself. I like to call tonglen a two-for-one compassion practice—we’re not only cultivating kindness, compassion, and peace for others who are alone, we’re cultivating them for ourselves.

When I practice tonglen, I feel less alone because I experience a deep connection to others who, like me, can’t fully participate in holiday festivities. Sometimes my eyes fill with tears as I breathe in other people’s pain and sadness surrounding the holidays, but I know these tears are “the dew of compassion”—for both them and for me.

If you find it difficult to breathe in other people’s suffering, then modify the practice. Rather than taking in their suffering on the in-breath, just breathe normally and call to mind others who share your circumstances. Then, in whatever way feels natural to you, send them thoughts of kindness, compassion, and peace. You need not breathe in others’ suffering in order to feel connected to them or in order to enfold both them and yourself in your heartfelt wish to ease the suffering of being isolated during the holidays.

Note: In my three books, I write in more detail about the practices in this article.

Yes, add grief to the mix...definitely. I'm so glad that the article made you feel less alone. I realized as I was writing it that it made me feel less alone just to put my experience down on paper. Warmest wishes, Toni

This will only be my second year with health challenges, which have increased since last year. I'm finding that I'm planning a few small activities, easy to organize and adaptable to my issues, easy to cancel or postpone if it's a hard day. And when I start to feel sad that this year isn't like all the years before, I try to be thankful that I had all those wonderful holidays.

I love how you're approaching the holidays. And when you say that if you start to feel sad, you'll try to be thankful for all the wonderful holidays you had, I thought immediately of a story I tell in my book about Susan Saint James. I also used it in a piece here. I'll put in the link in case you'd like to see it:

Yes, that story in your book was so powerful, though I hadn't realized that I'd internalized it so. I will read the link you included.

On an upside, I'm celebrating the very small things: I went grocery shopping today for the first time in 8 months and thought it was fantastic. Though, I'm adjusting to having help to do such things. But it was great (http://mommyhungry.blogspot.com/2011/11/thanksgiving-live-shopping-done.html)

Thank you, Toni. As I face the holidays I am torn between excitement and dread. I know I will have to temper these emotions and keep my expectations in line. Thanks for giving me some new tools to enjoy the hoidays and manage the hard times they can sometimes bring.

You and me both: torn between excitement and dread. It's hard. I'm so glad this post gave you some ideas. I hope you read the one previous to it because it has ideas for making sure your loved-ones know your limitations ahead of time. All my best, Toni

Toni, just in the nick of time! You address this very difficult experience head on and with a much appreciated personal twist. I'm sorry you experience gatherings in this way, I know precisely what you speak of here, I could feel your tears. They seem to come from nowhere, suddenly, like the tears of a child. I wonder if it ever feels that way to you. A tremendous burst of inner sadness whose only escape is by way of tears silently, or not, making their way onto a pillow. I literally can feel this for you as it has occurred with me too many times to mention.

I become excited to see anyone, as I seldom see another soul in daily living. Then, the nervous sort of feeling begins that only leads to more exhaustion. Used to be, that nervousness/excitement allowed me to clean my house, prepare special foods, make things "right" and welcoming. Excitement now is, in itself, nearly too much to cope with it seems. I do my best to seem as "normal" as possible for others and of course I wind up fizzling out even more quickly from the stimulation of something "different". I am, as I'm sure most readers are, social by nature. I want, no, I need the company of others! I need the shared energy, the warmth generated in that. Truth is, I still yearn to be the Sharon/mother/sister/aunt/friend that I once was to all those I love. In the practice of tonglen, I can make a contribution still. I can give! Giving is something I sorely miss, it nourishes me. I can keenly sense the unity of all of us together in this world, healthy or ill, in this practice. I can share, give, be of use. And it is a joy!

I am growing in compassion for myself, this was difficult for me. I remember reading your book for the first time, and using the self comforting approach, at first it felt foreign. Now, I find great comfort in this, as I am seldom the recipient of touch other than my own:-). Our "self talk" is so important, the words we choose, some help, some make matters worse. I remember the first time I said "I don't like feeling sick all the time" as opposed to "I don't want to be sick"; the difference was remarkable.

Mudita. I'm practicing this, it has been a challenge. Envy arises, sadness, the whole lot of emotions. I just continue on. Like everything, I figure practice makes one better at most things, I've found it to be mostly true.

I will be alone this holiday. I am still thankful. I will have phone conversations, someone (a virtual stranger!) offered to bring food from their meal. Astonishing, isn't it? And, even more astonishing, I accepted her kind offer! But, to expect that sadness will not be a part of that time is unrealistic. I will, hopefully, allow it to flow as emotions will if we don't latch on too tightly:-). I've learned a great deal about "watching" these emotions, thoughts, as they arise and dropping the story line. Thank you, Pema:-)

I want you to know that as you reveal more how this experience affects you, on a truly personal level, it becomes so much easier to be less harsh with myself, as I know we (all of us) are in the same boat. I actually like that image of a boat on the seas - however calm or turbulent the water may be, tossed about as this illness has unmercifully tossed us about, we continue to find ways to remain somewhat calm in the very eye of this illness storm.

Toni, I am tremendously grateful for your continued sharing, it is a real lifeline for me. See? A life preserver thrown out into that stormy sea:-), where I might otherwise be adrift, alone.

Happiness to everyone. As I write, I am breathing out all the compassion I feel at the moment in your direction:-), as tears find their way down my face yet again. Not tears of sadness, though, but tears of pure gratitude.
Sharon

Reading the first part of your comment—the tears flowing like a baby and wanting to badly to be the "old" you when you're around people but finding that even the excitement exacerbates your symptoms—was like reading about my own life. It affected me deeply. Perhaps that's why people are so deeply affected by my book.

I'm so glad that a stranger is bringing you food. Compassion can soften all our pain.

Thank you for your kind words about my writing. It means so much to me.

I once used an interesting twist on either the first or last thing you mentioned in the article, depending on how one looks at it. I recently had to attend a family function where I would be meeting my ex's young, healthy new wife for the first time. I was dreading it. I have a great group of friends in my online support group and I discussed it with them, and they all gave me so much love and encouragement that I felt I could handle it, also we came up with a song I could remember if I started feeling down, True Colors.

It was a horrible day, my ex and his wife didn't speak to me at all, and since this was a small gathering of only about 15 people, it was noticed by everyone. But every time I began to feel angry or humiliated, I would remember my friend's support and love, and think of the lyrics of that song. I can truly say those things are what got me through that difficult day.

so, breathing in my friend's love and support, and breathing out the pain my ex was causing me? I don't know where it fits in your article, but it worked!

There's no reason to be tied to one practice over the other. It's your intention that matters and your intention was to be kind to yourself and make the day as easy as possible. Thank goodness for your wonderful support group. It's as if they were with you! Thanks so much for sharing this beautiful story.

Thank you so much for these posts about coping during the holidays when you have a chronic illness. I love the Tonglen practice! When I do Quantum Touch on myself, I breathe in the Universe's healing energy and breathe out my pain and anguish. I hadn't thought to do it the other way and will try it!

Here's a mantra my yoga instructor taught me (wish I could still go).

May I be free from inner and outer harm,
May I be peaceful and happy,
May I be healthy and strong,
May I take care of myself joyfully.

Then you can say it for other people. I am not religious, but I am spiritual. This is how I share my positive, happy and healing energy with friends and loved ones.

In my book, I talk about lovingkindness practice and I share the phrases I use. They're very similar to those that your yoga instructor gave you! And I wish for you, freedom from harm, peace and happiness, health and strength, and good care of yourself. All my best to you, Shannon.

I love that you wrote about the tra la la la aspect of the Holidays with all the glitzy ads and Norman Rockwellesque families photographed for ads. Even those with families can't beat these fantasy scenarios.

Thank you for the section on Compassion. I love the idea of mothering myself. Coming up with special phrases for me, stroking my cheek or arm. Yes I think I'd like to do this more regularly.

Something that holds me up, comforts me is a feeling that my late mother, father, grandmother and cousin are still here for me. I speak to them, especially to my Oma. I never knew her, never saw a photo, but know she was "a pretty little thing" and kind.

Toni -- Why not wait til everyone has arrived, come out and briefly greet people. Then back to your room for rest and your dinner. When everyone's dinner is through, come out and be with them at the time you most enjoy. I'm sure everyone would love to see you too when they're all relaxed.

Thank you Toni for this wonderful article. For mentioning all the glitz and tra la la aspect of the Holidays. All the "perfect" families photographed for ads in mags and TV. Even those with families can't hold a candle to these Norman Rockwellesque scenarios.

I like your section on Compassion a lot. Treating myself as a beloved child, coming up with words that resonate with me, stroking my cheek or arm. I want to practice this regularly.

One thing that holds me up, comforts me deeply is the feeling my late loved ones are still around me. My mother, father, cousin and grandmother. I speak to them, especially my Oma whom I never met, never saw a photo of, but was told was a "pretty little thing" and kind.

Idea for you Toni -- Why not wait til everyone has arrived, come out for a brief hello, then back to your room for rest and dinner there. Then when everyone is finished with dinner and in that relaxed state, you could come out and join them at the time you most want to. I'm sure everyone would understand and enjoy your post dinner company.

I'm glad you liked the post, especially the compassion practice. Your idea is a good one. It takes discipline I don't always have though since I'm so excited to see people when they first come and I also manage to talk myself into thinking I'm feeling better than I am (it's the adrenaline at work!). But I'll try it! Warmest wishes, Toni